


Lead me not into temptation

by TheRedPoet



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Molly's Point of view, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-05-15 10:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14788778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedPoet/pseuds/TheRedPoet
Summary: Molly sets out to prove she's ready for certain things... Or so she says.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Shout-out to Basium on this one for helping me with quite a lot of the story.

When I was seven years old my dad took me fishing. Wait, wait. Don’t go. It will make sense if you just stick with me and there’ll be some good old R-rated content. It isn’t with my dad, just to make that clear. Good? Good. So...

We did that a lot back when there weren’t as many of us and we had more time. I don’t remember a lot from back then but the lessons of that day have always stuck with me. One - and this is definitely the most important one, so listen up: Patience. It took a while but we got enough fish for dinner. Two: The master bait joke is never going to get old. You snickered just now, didn’t you? Thought so. This all brings us to the R-rated stuff I was talking about.

When Harry first turned me down, with a frickin’ jug of water colder than Hoth, he told me that I shouldn’t have sex. It sounded kinda shitty at first, but after a few years of working with magic I can see his point. That’s not my point, though. He also told me I couldn’t touch myself, which I took to be a joke, and ignored. Mom still wonders why that electric toothbrush stopped working and she will never, ever know.

I knew that day that I’d have to be patient. I was a little bit too young - stupid as that was - and Harry didn’t want my dad to think he was some cradle robber. So I waited, I planned. Sooner or later there’d be a metaphorical bite and then all I’d need to do was to haul him in carefully. It’s not a great metaphor, I’ll admit that, but I’m kind of running low on time, you see. I’m right outside of the door of Harry’s apartment and I’ve knocked, so he’ll be here any-

The poorly fitted steel security door opens with a groan of protesting metal.

“Oh. Hello, Molly.” He frowns. “Did we have a lesson tonight?”

He gives me a once-over that lingers just a fraction of a second longer than usual and I feel my cheeks flush with heat. I’m wearing a pair of comfy cargo pants riding low on my hips, a too-small t-shirt that leaves my stomach bare. Oh, and I may have taken my bra off in the little nook provided by the stairway leading down to his basement apartment. He definitely notices.

“Kinda,” I say. “Sorry. I should’ve called, but I was in the neighborhood, and I had an idea. Are you busy?”

He isn’t. It’s Friday and Fridays are drink a beer and read a paperback novel night for Harry.

“No.”

He steps back and makes a ‘come on in’ gesture rather than actually telling me. He’s a little paranoid, but with all the stuff he’s been through, it’s pretty much warranted. I follow him inside and check the apartment out. Mouse, his huge, furry beast of a dog is laying in the kitchen alcove, napping. Mister, his huge tomcat or tiny mountain lion, is laying atop a bookshelf near the fireplace. A book is laying open on the table and by the looks of things, Harry’s already ruined its spine, the monster. A beer stands next to a can of pringles, with another two empty bottles in the kitchen. I didn’t choose today just because I knew he’d be home. The beer might help, too, and every little bit counts.

“Can I have one?” I ask.

He gives me a look and I grin. “Are you twenty-one yet?”

“In a few months,” I say. “Come on, Harry. I’d be allowed to drink literally anywhere but in this stupid country.”

“That’s both untrue and unpatriotic of you, Molly,” he chides, but he grins. We both know I never wanted the beer to begin with. A wine cooler is a different story, but Harry never has any.

“Cheapskate,” I mutter, sticking my tongue out.

He grabs the bottle off the table, downs the remaining third of the beer with a smug look directed at me, and says. “So… Why are you interrupting my brooding?”

I’ve practised the line about a hundred times in my room. More than a few of them with a hand down between my thighs, picturing Harry seated at the foot of my bed, watching me, but when he gives me the perfect set-up I choke. Badly.

“Uh. Magic. I had this idea - for a spell - well, not a spell, not really. It’s more like a-”

Fuck you, reality.

I flounder and Harry put his hands on my shoulders. “Hey,” he said, voice soft. “You look like you’re about to pass out or something. Are you okay?”

His touch is warm and gentle, his fingers rough, and I close my eyes for a few seconds, trying to regain some of my sanity. It isn’t easy when half my instincts are telling me to jump his bones and the rest are warning me to be on the look-out for buckets of ice water.

I’m about one part nauseous, one part terrified and three parts horny and it’s a really confusing mix of emotions, all jumbled together. Please God. Please don’t let me puke on him or something.

“I’m fine,” I say, and it mostly comes out sounding sane. “I was thinking about something you told me back when you took me on as your apprentice.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Uh. Yeah, so... “ Just say it like you practised. Come on, come on, come on. “You told me back then I couldn’t, you know, go all the way.”

“Because it might be dangerous before you’ve proven you can control your magic, yeah. What about it?”

My heart pounds faster. “I’m ready and I want to show you that I’m ready.”

For a while, Harry just looks at me. I can feel the water already dowsing me in fiery cold. It’s just a question of time, now.

“Show me?” He asked.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ll have to do it sooner or later, and I want to do it now.”

He swallows. “I’m not sure I’m the right guy. Once you’re an official member of the White Council-”

“That’ll be years. I don’t wanna wait that long.” I’m sounding a touch petulant and I can’t really stop it even though I tried. “So who else do I talk to? Morgan? The Merlin?”

Harry grimaces at the thought, opens his mouth to say something, and then closes it again.

“Come on,” I said. “It’s not that big a deal.”

He looks around the room before looking at the ceiling, considering my words. A little shiver of excitement runs through me. He’s considering it. He’s actually considering it!

“We can do it in the lab,” I say. “Just like any other experiment. I’ve got a bunch of rose quartz crystals. I’ll set up a two-layered circle just like you’ve shown me. The crystals for the inner circle, then chalk. If I lose control, they’ll crumble.”

“Not in the lab,” Harry says, sounding a little distant, the way he usually does when there’s a crisis and he’s trying to work out a plan. “There’s… Just not there.”

For a second, I’d swear there’s this ghostly wail of agony coming from the lab. I must really be losing it. Maybe it’s just the shock of him actually saying yes, because for a moment we both stand there like idiots.

“Let’s go to your bedroom,” I tell him. I don’t wait for him to say anything. I just walk away toward his bedroom. I almost wanna skip, but I don’t. Instead I add a little extra sway to my hips just in case he’s watching. 

His bedroom is tiny, with less than two feet between the bed and the wall at either sides. I push it up against one wall to free enough space for me to start preparing. I make the biggest chalk circle possible with the available room, which still isn’t much, and then set up the crystals within in.

Harry settles at the bed, one leg crossed over the other. For a moment I think I see a touch of the hunger I know is there inside him, gleaming in his eyes. It’s a little uncomfortable, sitting on the linoleum floor, without any cushion, so I steal a pillow from his bed, then plant my ass in the middle of the ritual circle, and empower it with a mild effort of will.

I smile at him. It probably looks more nervous than sexy, then run my hands slowly down my body. I arch my back and cup my breasts, running my thumbs across the outline my nipples make through the fabric. It was mostly for show, but then again, that’s the point of all of this. A show. 

I can feel the slow build of heat, a familiar itch, and with a last pinch I let one hand drop down along my belly. Dresden watches its progress. I can see him lick his lips. Is he getting turned on? Is that why he’s sitting with his legs crossed, because he’s getting hard?

I unbutton my pants and undo the zipper, slipping my fingers over the fabric of my panties. In my fantasies I always looked straight at him, smirking and enjoying the way I have him under my spell… In reality, I chicken out, and closed my eyes as I push my fingers inside my underwear, moving them lightly along slick folds.

I picture Dresden watching me intently, moving up to the edge of the bed for a better view, maybe, and beginning to slowly stroke the growing bulge in his jeans. I shudder as I slowly pressed one finger inside of myself, settling into a slow pumping motion. I’ve tried two and it works, sometimes, but tonight’s a night for playing things safe.

My thumb moves over my clit, grazing the tip delicately. I speed up and the itching slowly turns into a gentle pounding, a slow pulse of pleasure with each flick of my finger to my clit.

I can feel a small pressure building as my rate of breath increases with the pace of the pulse.

Some nights, when I pictured this, I’d stop right before I came, and look Dresden dead in the eye, and tell him he’d better get going and come with me, or we’d stop. In the fantasies, he always does, of course. Here, I don’t even have the balls to look at him, never mind make demands.

Like a second heartbeat, my finger moves with it. The pressure mounts and I slow down, I don’t want to end too soon.

I swallow, tensing down to my toes to stop myself from finishing.

I swear that his sharp intake of breath isn’t my imagination.

I swallow and gasp when it becomes too much. I pull out, focusing on my clit with a deft and delicate finger. I let myself loose in wave after wave of pleasure, feeling my insides clenching and unclenching until I’m half laying inside the constraints of the circle, sweaty and panting, my thoughts all jumbled and hazy.

I gather myself carefully and finally work up the nerve to look at Harry. He’s sitting in the same position, hands folded in his lap, and I’m pretty sure he is hard… But he hasn’t touched himself. He didn’t break the circle, grab me and throw me onto the bed to ravish me. Yes, maybe I’ve read a few of the paperback romance novels he keeps down in his lab for some reason, so sue me.

“Looks like it worked, huh?” I say, trying for cavalier. “Do I pass?”

Dresden eyes me and then looks down at the crystals. It’s a damn miracle I haven’t toppled any of them. He points at one where a slender hairline fracture has formed. I’m definitely not picturing the hunger smouldering in his eyes now. When he speaks, his voice comes out rough and husky.

“Not quite. I think we’ll have to give this another try tomorrow.”


	2. Chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't really ever going to update this, but I kinda got an idea for it, and four thousand words in a single sitting later, it was mostly done. Shout-out to Basium, who co-wrote.

Harry loved reading and he was a huge nerd. I liked that about him most of the time. Key word being “most”. Maybe that was why he always had a quote on stand by, as readily as a priest might have words of wisdom from scripture. Harry prescribed to a different kind of scripture, though, so most of his lessons were from Gandalf or Yoda, or more often than not, Peter Parker. He’d always liked Spidey. For other things, there were other quotes, and I remembered just the perfect one to sum up the events that were about to unfold: “No plan survives first contact with the enemy.” I think that’s how it goes. I’m not sure. Napoleon’s supposed to have said it, but I’m not sure about that, either. Anyways… The plan.

I woke up early the next morning and hopped out of bed to face the day and all its possibilities. Dad and Alicia were about to go out for a run, so I tagged along. When you’re the fist of God, smiter of evil, cardio is important. Afterwards, we went to a diner and had some breakfast, because even with carbs the Lord giveth and the lord taketh away.

It ended up being a busy day and, as afternoon came along, I sat on my bed, body thrumming with excitement as I went through the plan.

Crystals - check, with the broken one replaced.  
Showered - check.  
Shaved - Check.  
Deodorant - oh, crap. Hang on. One moment, and... - Check.  
Outfit that was hot but not slutty - Check

And on it went. You get the point. It was another two hours until I was supposed to go to Harry and I might be going a little bit crazy. I’d gone over the plan in my head about a thousand times already, but with nothing else to do, I did it again.

I’d arrive at Harry’s place like last time with the bottle of wine I’d managed to make Thomas buy me, and that I’d since snuck into my backpack with my gear. We’d have a glass… Or two, and then we’d get to it. I’d slip a hand under my skirt and tease him until he couldn’t resist joining me and -

The door rattled as someone knocked on it. “Molly. Phone call.”

I flinched as the noise shook me out of my daydream, and realized my hands had dropped down between my legs and that I was rubbing myself through my skirt. Not only that, but my trip to dreamland had left my wet. Like, really, really wet. Sheesh. I shook my head in hopes of clearing it - failed completely - and quickly made my way downstairs to the phone.

“Hello?”

“Molly,” Dresden said, his voice urgent and his breathing quick. “I need you. Can you come to the apartment?”

My heart did a little jump in excitement. He couldn’t even wait until the evening for me to come on over? I found myself grinning, and looked over shoulder to make sure mom hadn’t used the ninja powers all parents seem to have when their kids are on the phone to sneak up on me.

“Right away, sir,” I purred, snapping my hand to my forehead in a crisp salute, then, realising how stupid that looked, awkwardly dropping it again.

I hung up and checked the clock on the wall. Five minutes until the next bus. Dashing up to my room, I collected all of the things I’d meticulously laid out. I stowed them into my backpack and, thinking back on the need in Harry’s voice, pulled my panties off and threw them into the hamper.

I arrived at Harry’s place about half an hour later and took a moment to myself in the shade outside his apartment door. My hands were trembling and my heart was beating a lot faster than the short walk warranted.

My knuckles had barely touched the steel on my first knock when Harry came through with staff, blasting rod, coat and a bag of supplies slung over one shoulder.

“Oh. Hey, grasshopper.” He smiled at me and, be still my ovaries, it looked just a touch shy. “I got a call. Code Gozer. “

I blinked. “What?”

“Ghosts,” he clarified. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s a racoon. Either way, I thought I’d check it out. The guy sounded terrified.”

“Ghosts,” I said, dumbly. “Right. That’s why you needed me. Of course.”

See what I said? Plan, meet the enemy. I’d have to wing it from here.

We hopped into Harry’s car, the Blue Beetle, which was too small for me to sit comfortably in, never mind Harry who had most of a foot on me. It worked, though, and that was apparently the most important part.

Harry drove us out of the city and I sat there fidgeting uncomfortably. Excitement coiled low in my belly. Every so often, when Harry changed gear, his warm, scarred knuckles would brush along my bare leg. I shuddered at the light brush of skin, crossing my legs and squeezing my thighs together against the slick heat between them. It didn’t help. Honestly, it just made things worse. To make it even worse - because when it rains, it pours (at least in Chicago) we soon turned off the proper roads and onto gravel. With the Beetle’s suspensions being what they were, that was… Um, let’s go with interesting. By the time we arrived at our destination, an old estate just outside of the city limits, I was starting to feel lightheaded.

We’d stopped by a large old house, with iron fencing in between high posts of stone, all leading up to a large gate. I half-expected thunder to crack in the background accompanied by cheesy, evil laughter. There wasn’t. I’m not sure if it was actually comforting or not.

Harry headed over to the little buzzer set into the wall by its iron gates, and pressed its button. He drew a little circle in the gravel with the tip of his boot and then closed the circle. It decreased the odds of him accidentally hexing it. A little.

“Yes?” Answered a wheezy man’s voice from the other end.

“My name’s Dresden,” Harry said. “You called me earlier today about disturbances.”

“What?” There was some rustling of papers in the background, and, finally. “Oh. Dresden. Dresden! Yes. I did call you. Come on in!”

There was a screech of poorly maintained hinges and the gate slowly opened up for us, admitting us into the garden. It was overgrown to the point that the big house on the other side was almost hidden until we came up to the door. It was three stories tall, plus an attic, and built of dark brick. 

“This isn’t the least bit foreboding,” Harry muttered to himself.

We walked up to the heavy oak door and he raised the brass knocker, letting it fall with a deep thud.

A giggle bubbled up my throat. “Nice knockers, right?”

Harry cast me his best, most serious look, and sniffed indignantly as if he was insulted by such a low-brow joke. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he turned away from me to start coughing. It didn’t do a very good job of covering up his laughter.

He’d only barely gotten his expression straight when the door opened and a man in his early fifties poked his head through. He smiled warmly at us.

“Oh. Hello there. How can I help you?”

Harry hesitated for a moment. “You called me. You were having issues with your house. Something weird, you said.”

For a moment, the man’s eyes were far away and glazed, as if he wasn’t completely sure what Harry was talking about at all. Then he seemed to snap back. “Oh. Yes! Suspicious, indeed. Come on in.”

I noted that, though he was dressed in a nice suit, the buttons of his shirt were done up wrong, and he had managed to put on shoes from two different pairs. This smelled a lot more like an early onset of dementia than a haunting, but Harry liked being thorough. We exchanged a look, and followed him inside.

The whole apartment was just… Pandamonium. Books and papers lay scattered everywhere, notes covering the walls with varying regularity to the point that some were almost hidden behind them.

We walked through the kitchen, and though the pipes were rusty, and the clinkers worn, it was clean. There wasn’t any rotting food. After a few years of wizardry you learn to look for the positives. For example, a slime golem might ruin your entire outfit, but from that you might learn that your mentor likes short skirts and, probably, your legs in short skirts.

“Mr Bradbury,” Harry said when we came to a stop in the man’s living room. “What’s got you worried?”

“These,” the man said, frantically pointing at the notes all around him. It wasn’t quite as psychotic here, and the notes didn’t cover the wall-paper, but there were easily a hundred of them. “I live here alone, Mr Dresden. I don’t have any family coming to visit me. Nobody else has a key… So who’s writing these notes?”

Harry frowned. “No neighbours at all?”

“No, no, no. None whatsoever. Old Lisa broke her leg a few months back so she hasn’t been around, and Johnny’s moved away. Then there’s Melanie, who-”

I fought not to roll my eyes. It wouldn’t have been professional or polite. Usually, I was better about that kind of stuff, but tonight I really, really needed for things to go faster. If I didn’t get to come soon I was going to explode. Harry paced around the room as the man spoke, running a hand along the dust over a stack of note by the large work desk.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice curt, but not sharp.

He looked like he wanted to get out of here, too. Was he as excited about this as I was? Had he been laying in bed, picturing the next time, imagining what might happen? I tracked his fingers as they brushed along the desk, and my mind wandered, picturing him pushing all those papers aside, grabbing me by the waist and lifting me up on that desk, taking me as I wrapped my legs around him.

“I can’t think of anything else,” the old man said, and his voice cut through my temporary lapse in concentration.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll take a look. Can you give us the room for a few minutes?”

“Ah. Of course. It’s so nice to see that couples can work together. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Harry flushed. “We’re not-”

The older man’s eyes widened in shock. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. I misunderstood. I’ll let you and your daughter work in peace. Excuse me.”

He walked off, moving a little unsteadily as he weaved through piles of books and detritus.

“I think this guy might be a little cuckoo for coco puffs,” Harry said under his breath.

“You think?”

He winked. “Still… A professional wizard doesn’t just jump to conclusions. He might be crazy. He might not be. Maybe he’s crazy because a ghost’s tormenting him. Best to have a look around just to be sure.”

He dug around in his bag and came out with a heavy, carefully sealed box, handing it over to me.

“Is this lead?” I asked, giving it an experimental bounce in my hand.

“Yes,” he hissed, grabbing my hands and the box. “And it’s full of depleted uranium dust, so be careful with it.”

My eyes widened and I grabbed onto the box with both hands. Oops.

“If you see a ghost,” Harry said, “Toss a sprinkle of that on it. It’ll bind it.”

“Oh- okay.”

He dug around his bag, muttering to himself. “I forgot the ghost candles, but this should do.”

He gave me a tuning fork and grabbed another for himself, rapped it against nearby bookshelf so that its soft hum filled the room, then peered through the two bars.

“Can we really see ghosts with these?”

He winced. “Probably. Well, you can. Me, I’m not so sure about. Guess we’ll see.”

And so we began to go through the house, room by room, floor by floor.

“You really know how to show a girl a good time on a night out,” I muttered as we finished up the second floor without finding anything. 

Harry’s eyes widened for a moment, but he recovered quickly. “Oh please. Who else would take you Ghostbusting?”

“It’s not ghostbusting without ghosts,” I noted.

“You’re having fun,” he said. “You know it.”

I found myself smiling. “Yeah. It just wasn’t what I thought we’d do tonight, you know?”

The stair leading to the third floor was narrow and I stepped in ahead of Harry, my chest pressed up against his as I slipped by. It was just a brush and even so, I almost had to bite my lip not to moan from the feel of him. We needed to wrap this up soon before I embarrassed myself somehow. Walking up the steps, with Harry following, I could all imagine just how much thigh I was showing off. I didn’t dare to look back and check if he was watching or not., but I wanted him to. I wanted him to start wondering if I was wearing anything under the skirt. Wanted him to push me into a dark corner somewhere out of sight, upstairs, and explore all the possibilities that left open. My heart was pounded hard in my chest and bit down on my bottom lip.

He didn’t end up doing any of those things. We cleared the third floor… And the attic, which I’ll admit was way creepy, and found nothing. Climbing back down the stairs, I wobbled a little. Was I seriously getting so turned on I was going weak-kneed? Harry eyed me, first with a smile, then with a thoughtful expression.

“Was the stove downstairs a gas stove?”

I thought about it. “Yeah.”

“Ah. Shit.”

Harry didn’t say anything else and hurried downstairs to find Mr Bradbury in the kitchen, slowly chewing on a banana. His eyes darted from the old pipes, to the gas burning stove, and then up, where a carbon monoxide detector was placed.

“Mr Bradbury,” he said. “Can you open the windows? All of them.”

The older man frowned. “It’s cold outside. I don’t know if that’s such a good-”

“Just trust me,” Harry cut in. “Get the door, too, while you’re at it, and get out in the fresh air.”

The comment was met with a frown, but he did what Harry said. Most people do when there’s something weird going on. He can be kinda… Intense.

He grabbed a chair from the kitchen table, a rickety old thing, and set it under the monitor. I put my foot on it… and then hesitated as the wind rustled the fabric of my skirt. Bad idea.

“Why don’t you get up. You’re taller.”

“And heavier,” Harry said. “I can catch you if you fall. If I fall, I’ll squish you.”

I felt my my throat, and my cheeks, and my everything flush with heat.

“Fine.” I climbed up to the chair and Harry steadied me with his hands at my waist.

I grabbed the monitor and, as I did, another gust of wind blew in, cool and brisk. Goosebumps erupted along my thighs as my the fabric of my skirt rustled and stirred. Harry’s fingers tightened at my waist and I could hear him draw a sharp breath. I cast a nervous look down at him and our eyes met. I forced myself to hold his gaze. Play it cool, Molly, I told myself. Act like this was totally according to plan. The new plan.

His gaze dipped down to my bare thighs and lingered. I could see him swallow thickly and tried for a sultry smile. I think it came off more shy than anything else. His hands were still firmly on my hips, fingers unconsciously running along the fabric of my skirt. I turned up to the monitor and went up on the tips of my toes, twisting it and freeing it from its casing. I wondered how much he’d seen and the thought made even more heat pool between my legs.

Handing the monitor over, I got down on the floor with his helping hand. We were standing close, our toes touching, and I forced myself not to flinch or look away. A tension was building between us. I could feel it thicken and I wanted nothing more than to lean in and kiss him.

“The windows are opened,” said a voice behind us. “Is the spirit gone?”

That conniving old cockblock, I thought with a sigh, stepping back and smoothing down my skirt.

“There wasn’t any spirit,” Harry said. “Get new batteries for this and get someone over here to check the pipes for you.”

He threw the carbon monoxide detector at the guy, and with that, we walked off into the sunset.

Not really, but it sounds cooler like that.

When we got into the car, I sat just a bit too close to the stick and pushed myself a bit further in to “adjust” myself in my seat when Harry’s hand touched my hip.

What can I say? The Blue Beetle is too small, and that’s in no way my fault.

“I thought we were going to be here for a while.” Harry said, interrupting my schemes - I mean, my thoughts. I wanted more contact and I’d be damned if he was going to deny me now, “I rented a hotel room for tonight.”

Score!

“Nothing fancy, but there are two beds.”

Of which we’d be using one, I thought to myself. Or maybe we’d use one and sleep in the other.

I smiled. “It’s okay.”

“Alright… I mean, it’s kinda early, so I could just drive us home if-”

“No, really - it’s okay.” I tried not to sound forceful and stuff, but can you blame a girl? I’ve only got so much patience in me.

“Okay.” Was it just me or is he a bit spooked by my reaction? Okay, Molly, reel him back in.

“It’ll be fun.” It took a bit of time - like, awkward-silent time - to realize how childish that sounded to my ears. Imagine how that sounded to his.

I began to rub my hands up and down along my thighs, as if cold, and the shiver that’s entirely unrelated to the temperature seemed to sell it. Maybe a little too well. Harry’s eyes drifted down to my thighs, the hemline of my skirt, and then a worried look crossed his face.

“We’re almost there, Molly.”

This wasn’t going well. I nodded, hiding my frustration by looking out the window. We were coming up on a roadside motel, and Harry pulled into its parking lot and stopped us next to an old volvo. I felt my heart beat faster with each step we took. It wasn’t the kind of place that had room service or a mini bar, but it worked. Harry had somehow chosen something that was very... him. There were two well-spaced beds, a tv, a bathroom, and that was about it. .

“Dibs on the bed by the window,” I said without realizing. “It’ll be hot tonight, right?”

I facepalmed hard enough to do Picard proud. Fuck, that had been tacky. I fingered at the straps of my backpack, remembering the crystals that were inside. Harry was watching me with those intense dark eyes from last night, when I…

“I’m ready to try again.”

He considered me for a moment, then nodded.

“There’s an open enough space here,” Harry said, indicating to the floor next to the bathroom. I swallowed as a fluttery sensation settled in my stomach.

“Good.”

My voice cracked a bit and I wasn’t sure where this nervousness was coming from. I stood there for a moment before dumping the contents of my backpack onto my bed and scurried about the space, rushing to set everything up.

Harry watched me with an expression of mild amusement, and that dark smouldering of desire far back in his eyes.

I took dad’s advice in mind when I looked over my containment circle, “Cut once, measure twice.” No matter how eager I was to get started, I couldn’t take the chance of who knows what happening while I was in the mix of things.

“So far so good, young padawan.”

I tried not to blush at the praise like a complete idiot. Tried.

I settled down in the middle of the circle, large enough this time that I’d managed to spread a blanket out under me, and powered it up. Then, looking up at Harry, I drew a finger slowly down along my neck, tracing the slithering design of the tattoo I’d gotten there years ago, my nails dragging along its twists and turns.

Harry’s eyes drifted lazily along as my hands made their slow descent, running over the curves of my breasts, squeezing them gently… At first. Just a touch of pain wasn’t bad, and I indulged myself for as long as I could stand.

Then I moved on, short, blunt nails scraping along my belly. I’d meant to drag this out, drive Harry crazy before getting to the main event, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I pushed my hand up under the skirt, gliding my fingers over my thighs and over my sex, shivering slightly at the ghostly touch.

I swallowed and closed my eyes for a second, pulling myself together. I started tracing myself with the tips of my fingers, drawing my moistness out with warm teasing before reaching in deeper. I bit my lip in an effort to keep myself from moving faster and looked up at Harry.

He licked his lips and I could see the outline of his cock pressing against the fabric of his jeans. He sat with his hands clenched on his thighs, as if he was worried what they might get up to if they weren’t. My finger began to trace slow circles around my clit as I struggled to maintain eye contact.

Come on, Dresden.

Join me, won’t you?

As if sensing my silent prayer, Harry’s eyes drifted closed for a brief moment and then he pressed the palm of his hand down against the bulge of his cock, dragging his fingers along the fabric with a soft hissing sigh slipping past his teeth.

He rubbed himself like that, slowly, pressing down with a couple of fingers along his length, eyes tracing the contours of my body without any shame for the first time.

I swallowed again when I sped up and he followed my example. If anyone were to walk into this, I’m sad to say that I wouldn’t have stopped. Hell, I sped up when a pressure began to build at the thought.

When my hips thrust just so, I closed my eyes and my toes began to curl from the effort of lasting. Of course, bodies are traitorous. My eyes snapped open with a gasp and I stared into his when the orgasm hit me like a truck.

Dresden shuddered as he watched me come, his shoulders hunching forward a little as he pressed his hand down hard against his cock. He watched me as I half sat, half lay there on the blanket, a dark amusement touching his features.

“Perfect.” He said when my orgasm faded. “None of the crystals broke. Ready for the next step?”

I stared at the bulge for a moment before nodding, “Yeah.”

“Good.” He got down off the bed and, for a moment, I thought he was about to grab me and throw me onto the bed… Instead, he settled at the foot of the bed, and undid the top button of his jeans. “Well... What’re you waiting for?”

I got up on wobbly legs and took my time in stepping over the crystals and heading up onto his bed so that he was at the foot of the bed and I was laying down on my back.

“I’m ready.”

I took a deep breath and decided to use my other hand this time.

Harry unzipped his jeans and pulled them down his legs, idly stroking himself through his boxers as he watched me. There’s a spot there, at his tip, slick and darkened, and he rubs his thumb in slow circle along it.

I spread my legs, making sure he had a good view of my wetness, of what this exercise was doing to me before my hand descended to my folds.

Harry’s eyebrows rose for a moment, and then he followed suit. He pulled his boxers down and and took his cock in one hand, stroking himself slowly and carefully as he watched me.

Amidst the tingles that coursed through my body, I began to work myself at the very tip of my clit.

He kept pace with me, pumping his hand faster down along his length, the tendons in his forearm standing out at the strain. His face was twisted up with effort, his breath coming quickly now.

I wanted more. I wanted him.

My hand kept going and I went lower, bucking ever so slightly as I imagined that that finger was pushing into me was him. I close my eyes for a second, wishing that magic could do something about the space between us and that…

Stop thinking, Molly.

I open my eyes, making eye contact as I moved my hand as fast as I could to keep pace with him. I mewled when I found that delicious spot that always made me finish faster.

“Molly.” My name. It’s spoken softly, with a touch of desperation, and with a raw, aching need.

Harry’s slowed down, touching himself at a slow, measured pace, as if balancing on a tightrope. He’s close. He’s got to be. He’s about to come - for me.

“Harry.” I whisper it and buck my hips again at how right it felt to say it.

The itchiness increases and I’m moving with my hand in an effort to come with him.

Of course, that was the stuff of bad pornos, that I totally haven’t watched.

It’s close, though, and I watched him spill himself all over his hand, slumping over as he does and catching himself on the edge of the bed, and I tumbled over the edge just a moment later.

He was coming out of the bathroom by the time I come to, smelling of cheap soap. He slipped his arms under me, scooped me up, and I turn out to be correct. We do sleep together in the other bed.

Everything absolutely, totally according to plan.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more, shout-out to Basium1 for co-writing this silly piece of trash with me. Hopefully this installment will provide a satisfactory climax to the series.

With everything that had happened over course of the last week, you’d have thought that the next phase in operation seduced Harry Dresden, part three, electric bang-aloo, would’ve been quick to follow. I thought so, too. Turns out, I was wrong.

Like it inevitably does, trouble found its way into our lives, and the less important things, like the long list of things I’d read about in smutty books or seen online when I could still use a computer, got sidelined. There may have been a war against the vampires courts for our very survival going on, too.

That’s why we found ourselves in Edinburgh, Scotland, at the the headquarters of the White Council of wizards, listening to Morgan drone on, and on, and on about safety precautions, and wards with a sprinkling of interesting stuff about how the wardens were doing every now and then.

My eyes stayed focused on him, but my mind? That’s where the party was at. Okay, that was lame, but you get the point. It was the only place where any fun was being had.

A quick glance around the room showed that everyone was listening intently. Harry was jotting down things in a notepad. Some of those things looked suspiciously like crude drawings of Morgan, but there were notes there, too.

I rubbed my thighs together and found myself drifting back into my daydreams. Maybe this time, we were somewhere exotic? Sandy beaches as far as the eye could see, palm trees, sparkling blue waters. Harry rubbing lotion on my back... No, that was cliché. I could do better.

I looked around the room. It was a boring rectangle with a table smacked down in the middle, wizards crowding around it. A few apprentices were present, most crowded along the walls as the chairspace had run out. I’d been lucky there. To the left of one young warden who I’d talked to a few times, but whose name was something slavic sounding that I couldn’t remember, there was a door that almost but not quite blended into the wall.

My thoughts kept wandering. What would be inside? Some secret Hogwartsesque passage?

I picture pulling Harry with me in there, away from prying eyes, and pushing him up the wall in a way I was nowhere near confident enough to do for real. I’d stare into his eyes for a moment before my clothes would vanish, bear with me, and I would step closer to him over the soft carpet. He would get naked, too, and come toward me. I would find my courage and reach out to the rod, no. His… Uh - You know what, let’s go with dick - between his legs and give his rod - damn it - dick a good rub.

He’d be reaching for me in the meantime, rubbing my…

“Molly?”

I jerked out of the fantasy and looked around frantically. Harry was looking at me.

“Hmm?” I wiped at my mouth just in case there was drool.

“We’re taking a break. Want to see something?”

There was an eager look in his eyes and he gave a nod to the door leading back toward the warden barracks. He meant well, but I was not in the mood for another boring magic lesson right now. Especially since I’d probably screw it up with how… distracted I was. It was probably better to do some exploring, figurative or literal, and I’d gotten curious about what was behind the door.

“If it’s over there, sure. Shall we?”

Harry frowned. “You’re sure?”

There had been a sparkle in his eyes before, but it was gone now. Huh.

I felt a little bad about it. I liked learning about magic most days, but today I didn’t need a nerd-gasm. I needed an orgasm. Or five.

“Yeah.” I said, patting the door frame. “I wanna see where this goes.”

Harry frowned “Alright… Follow me.”

He opened the door and led the way into a dimly lit corridor that snaked its way out of view. The walls were covered in drawings in evolving styles of art that I couldn’t for the life of me remember the name of.

“This is the complete, unabridged history of the White Council of Wizards.”

Well, shit. Nerdgasm, here we come.

The path just went on and on and I started to worry I’d wither away from old age before we got to the end. It was time for a plan. I just had to figure it out.

I stopped a while in in front of a scene of a building by a harbor on fire, with a bearded, robed man escaping the flames, and pointed. “What’s that?”

Harry tilted his head to the side and considered it. “I think it’s supposed to be Merlin saving some of the most important texts from the library of Alexandria before it burned down.”

“Did that actually happen?”

I leaned back against Harry where he stood, trying to play it cool, like I was just a little bit tired and getting comfortable or something. It was probably a little less subtle when I pressed my ass against the front of his pants, though.

“Yeah… We - we think it did, anyways.”

I recognised that tone of voice from the two evenings we’d spend together, from the end, when Harry had been all but bursting with need. If that wasn’t enough, I could feel him now, growing hard as I wiggled my butt against him. The feel of him pressed into me sent a delicious shiver down my spine.

He took some of the lead when he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. “I - Molly…”

At least I wasn’t the only one thinking along these lines.

I reached behind myself, fumbling for a thoroughly embarrassing moment before unzipping his pants and grasping him through the fabric of his boxers. I could feel the long, hard length of him in my palm. I began to stroke it carefully, trying to remember how he’d done it himself.

How did they do this in the not-kid-friendly movies? It was so hard to focus with Harry’s hot, quick breath on my neck.

He responded quickly to my ministrations, reaching down into my pants to fondle me and pushing a finger against my clit before it began circling around the very tip before going over the top and into his pattern.

Hell’s bells, this was better than any fantasy any day…

He pressed himself against me. Helping me along as I slowly pumped my hand along the length of him. Screw it. Time to go big or go home. I pulled his underwear down and pushed at my pants, swearing at their stylish, snug fit as I wiggled out of them.

I turned around to face him and ran my finger along the length of his erection. I drew my thumb over the slick tip and Harry shuddered, knees buckling so that he had to brace a hand against the wall for support. Without a second thought I stopped my hands movement but kept my fingers going, rubbing along the length.

He groaned and decided to cheat by slipping his hand in between my thighs again. It threw off my rhythm a little, as I felt the slow building inside of me coaxed by his touch, but I didn’t let it stop me. I wanted to make him cum for me.

I didn’t hear the steps coming until it was way, way too late. We both froze. My heart was pounding hard and I ached with the need to get off, but I cast a sideways glance to to the corridor. An old man in overalls, stocky, with a bald pate had come to a halt just in sight and stood there.

“Well, I’ll be damned. I’m very sorry for interrupting,” he said, mostly sounding amused. “But the meeting’s starting back up, Hoss. You’d best get dressed or you’ll be late.”

He turned and walked back to where he’d come from. From the darkness, I could hear him mutter. “Damn youngsters.”

Harry and I exchanged a look as the man’s steps faded away. Both of us were red-faced, sweaty and just… Completely wrecked. I pulled my jeans up, painfully aware of how wet I was, and how sticky my hand was, and how there was no way in hell anyone would not notice. Exchanging a pained, chagrined smile, we trudged back to the meeting.

It was torture, plain and simple. We made our way back just in time to where people were crowding around and getting into their seats, so people didn’t really see us coming in. I think maybe The Merlin saw my face and raised a silver eyebrow, but I just looked away and fled to my seat.

Then Morgan stepped up to the podium… And talked. Arousal still pounded through me and I couldn’t focus on anything else but that burning, consuming need. I glanced over to Harry, watching his hands where they rested on the table. Just a few minutes ago I’d had those hands all over me. I looked away and got stuck on the blasting rod hanging from a thong at his hip. I wondered for one traitorous moment if it had any uses outside of combat…

Sheesh. This meeting needed to end - quickly.

I closed my eyes and tried to focus on drawing slow, even breaths. I tried to think of someplace nice and calming, like a meadow. A bumbling brook nearby, tall grass, a picnic basket with treats set out on a blanket… And before I knew it, Harry was there, laid out on the blanket, as I rode him in the marginal cover of the tall grass.

It kept going and going. My underwear was soaked. My heart was pounding frantically, and the meeting didn’t really show any sign of being over anytime soon. I caught Harry’s eye, and that definitely didn’t help when the first damn thing he did was lick his lips and my thoughts went to what his tongue might feel like teasing my clit… I squeezed my thighs together at a fresh surge of need. Fuck.

I kept holding Harry’s gaze, though, and he cast a pointed look to Morgan. Was he giving me crap for not listening… Or? Ah. Idea.

I pictured Morgan naked. His old, shrivelled… And yeah, there you go. It helped. Mostly. Up until the next time I looked over at Harry again, at least. Around us the wardens argued, their voices a background buzz I could only pick out a few stray sentences from.

“I don’t think we’re doing anything useful right now, sitting here debating!”

“Of course you’d think that!”

“At the very least, I do think, which is more than can be said for some.”

“Just stick it to them hard!” A shiver coursed through me as vague images of the hard thing I’d been playing with earlier tried to push to the forefront of my mind. I took a deep breath.

“And what will we do when they come hard in our domains?” I know that’s not what he meant, but damn if this isn’t getting ridiculous. How was that last one not sexual?

“We’re not all as young as we once were.”

I’m honestly not sure if I hallucinated the last thirty or so minutes of the damn meeting, but when The Merlin finally called it to an end I bolted out of the door. I headed down the nearest corridor, the one heading the opposite direction we’d come from earlier in the day, and cast a glance over my shoulder. Harry was just coming out of the meeting room, making some excuse to a wizard with a blue beard, and steering his steps in my direction.

I kept on walking, making sure he kept up, and took turn after turn, until I had no idea where I was anymore. The floors here were dusty and I left footprints in my wake. There, I finally stopped and leaned up against the wall and tried to look sexy and composed. It took Harry only a few seconds to catch up and keeping myself from slipping my hand down into my jeans even for that short span of time was agony.

Harry stopped in his tracks when he saw me, dark eyes roaming across my body now without a single shred of shame. I smiled as if I wasn’t about to explode in a needy pile of sexual frustration, and watched him come closer.

He cupped my cheek as he gave me a tender kiss.

This was what I’d been fantasizing for a while, you know. I wanted him, had wanted him for the longest time, and now it was finally happening. I kiss his neck as I rushed my hand into his pants. He chuckled.

“Eager, are we?” Oh, he had no idea.

I closed my eyes, enjoying the way his breath hitched at my touch. I moved my fingers over the tip as he unbuckled his belt and gave me more freedom to move the way I’d learned he liked. I’d only barely gotten started when Harry’s fingers touched my wrist. I blinked in confusion but stopped, and a fresh wave of need coursed through me when he got on his knees.

“You’ve been very patient with me, haven’t you?”

His words send a shudder of pleasure through me. I undid my pants and pushed them down.

Harry stared at me like he wanted to eat me up. He settled his broad, scarred hands at my hips and licked his lips. Then he pushed my underwear aside and leaned in.

I don’t know when I stopped focusing on reality but, the universe was suddenly a small space and it was centered around me. The world could be on fire and I wouldn’t have noticed, the crackling wouldn’t matter as Harry’s tongue entered me. I mewled, bringing myself back to reality as Harry began running his tongue back up my slit.

By whatever deity was watching… I was going to come so hard.

Watching…

I shivered and tried to shake the thought. But try as I may, it was stuck and some of the pleasure began to ebb away even as I enjoyed the best head of my life.

“Fuck…” My fingers were wound in his hair and I was pretty sure that I’d be sinking to the floor if not for his hands at my hips.

I closed my eyes and tried to relax. Again, the pleasure built and began to crest, only for the ugly thought of yet another interruption, some baby warden lost in the maze like corridors of Headquarters walking in on us.

Harry dragged his tongue along the tip of my clit and teased a finger inside me. I could feel myself get close - again - and again I could feel eyes on me, hear footsteps echoing off the stone floors around the corner.

I turned my head to look… And there was nothing. Just an empty hallway and two horny wizards. Harry stopped and got to his feet. He wiped at his mouth. “You okay, grasshopper?”

He settled his hands on my shoulders and pulled me close, arms wrapping securely around my waist.

“What’s the matter?”

I winced. “I can’t - you know - come. I keep thinking someone’s going to walk in and I’ve been close to many times now I think I’m going crazy.”

He smiled a little and stroked back the sweaty bangs sticking to my forehead. “We can wait, if you want. Head back home. Nobody’s going to disturb us there. Mister doesn’t know how to open doors.”

I leaned against him. I could feel his dick press against my stomach. I needed him. I couldn’t wait.

“Hell, even if someone does catch us. Who cares?” He said.

A fear I hadn’t even known I’d been carrying around with me - that all I’d be was his dirty little secret - cracked and shattered with those words. I surged forward and kissed him. Hard. I pushed his pants down frantically and pulled him toward me.

“You’re right. Come on. Who cares if someone sees?”

“Are you sure?”

In answer, I took hold of his dick and guided him towards my sex. It was a little awkward, with the height difference, but we made it work. Moving carefully and slowly, Harry pressed inside of me.

I gasped in pleasure. How long have I been wanting this? I met him as he moved and only then realized he was being gentle and letting me get used to his girth. I did not want slow or gentle right now. I grabbed onto shoulders and he caught the drift, lifting me up off the ground so that I could wrap my legs around his waist.

“Faster,” I rasped, “go faster!”

He began to pick up the pace, just a little bit with each thrust, and holy shit it was just as good as I’d thought it would. There was an almost look in his eyes, like he was about to- Oh… oh… oh!

I panted as I tried to hold on. I’d wanted this all day. I’d wanted it for years. The pleasure swelled.

“Harry… I’m about to…”

He grunted in answer and…

_Fin._


End file.
